


Bad Example

by Black_Crystal_Dragon



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Good Omens Lockdown, Happy Ending, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Light Angst, M/M, Soft Crowley (Good Omens), bending the rules, lockdown - Freeform, whatever you think their relationship in the show is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:21:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23949058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Black_Crystal_Dragon/pseuds/Black_Crystal_Dragon
Summary: After their phone conversation, Crowley realises something.A continuation ofGood Omens: Lockdown.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 74
Collections: Good Omens Lockdown fics





	Bad Example

**Author's Note:**

> I can't believe I put this together in (technically) under three hours. This is what _Good Omens: Lockdown_ has done to me. Happy 30th, everyone.
> 
> Thanks (again!) to [Ice_Elf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ice_Elf/profile) for the beta. And for letting me scream the first draft version of this fic into your Twitter DMs.

Crowley sloped into his bedroom, shedding layers as he went and not even bothering to miracle them out of existence as they hit the floor. A phone call from Aziraphale should have cheered him up – and it had, for a bit. Hearing him talk about his adventures in baking had filled Crowley’s head with the picture of him eating the results, partly recalled and partly imagined: the blissful look on his face as he lifted a forkful of cake and the little sound of pleasure as it first touched his tongue. It had filled him with a longing he hadn’t felt very often since the cancelled Apocalypse.

Then Aziraphale had turned down his proposition of facing the remainder of lockdown together, and the yearning had turned to stone and dragged his mood down to the depths under its weight.

He stopped beside his bed, poking at his phone to set himself an alarm. July would do it, he hoped. He should at least check in with Aziraphale then.

Maybe Aziraphale would crack in the meantime. As he climbed between the sheets, he thought of the plaintive note in the angel’s voice as he’d said ‘when this is over’. Yes, he wouldn’t last two months without company. Not without speaking to each other, at least. He imagined waking up to the ring of his phone, remembered the way Aziraphale always said ‘hello’ and closed his eyes to luxuriate in the memory of it. From there it was all too easy to let the conversation they’d just had replay inside his head.

Crowley’s eyes snapped open. Aziraphale had expected him to be out and about, not holed up in his flat abiding by the lockdown like a good little demon. Aziraphale expected him to break the rules.

The rules that were the only thing keeping them apart.

He got back out of bed and snapped his fingers. His clothes obediently disappeared from the floor and reappeared, spotless, on his person. He pulled his sunglasses out of his jacket’s inner pocket and put them on.

“Right,” he said, and went to raid his store of wine.

~~~

He made the drive across to the bookshop as quick as possible, and for good measure made sure himself and the Bentley were miraculously unnoticed by every human he encountered. ‘Being a bad influence’ might be his excuse to leave the flat, but he stood by what he’d said over the phone: things were bad enough already without him going around making matters worse for people. He parked, retrieved the case of wine and a freshly miracled plastic bag from the back seat and knocked on the glass of the bookshop door. 

There was a pause before Aziraphale appeared from between two shelves, looking bewildered. He caught sight of Crowley through the glass and stopped short, frowning, which gave Crowley the opportunity to realise that he wasn’t wearing his jacket or waistcoat and his sleeves were rolled up to the elbow. He visibly huffed and bustled to the door.

“What are you doing here?” he asked through the glass.

“Essential delivery,” Crowley said with as much innocence as he could muster, glancing at the case of wine in his arms. When he looked back up, he noticed a smudge of flour dusting the end of Aziraphale’s nose.

“Essential delivery,” Aziraphale repeated, his tone straining between withering disapproval and unbearable fondness.

“Yeah, ‘s food supplies,” Crowley explained, shifting so that the plastic bag dangling from his fingers swung and caught the angel’s attention. “You said you had to miracle the cherries.”

Aziraphale’s expression melted. However, he still didn’t reach for the lock on the door.

“I can leave it on the doorstep if you like,” Crowley said. “Pop off back to the flat …”

It was a gamble, but Crowley was playing with loaded dice. Aziraphale never could resist a temptation. And it had been bloody weeks! Even if Aziraphale was holed up with all the cake and books he could ever desire, he knew from the way they’d said their goodbyes over the phone that they were both missing one another.

Aziraphale’s brows twisted in consternation, and for a moment he thought he really was going to tell him to put the bag and box down and back off to an appropriate two-metre distance – but then he sighed and reached for the door. As it opened, the warm scent of fresh baking rolled out of the shop alongside more familiar scents of dust and old books, a faint lingering trace of petrichor.

“Oh, come in if you must,” Aziraphale said as stepped back to usher Crowley inside. He was trying very hard not to smile. “But you do realise that once you do, you’re stuck here for the duration.”

Crowley strolled in, unable to control his grin as he crossed the threshold. He was counting on it.

**Author's Note:**

> And then Aziraphale gets his latest bake out of the oven (banana bread with chocolate chips in my head, but insert your favourite thing here!) and Crowley tempts him into eating the whole thing at once as soon as it’s cool enough to get out of the tin.
> 
>  **Important disclaimer: DO NOT DO THIS.** I can’t stress that enough. **Stay at home. Remain socially distant.** Please stay safe and help to keep others safe. Remember: that's what Crowley wants! I 100% love the message in Good Omens: Lockdown (i.e. we have to abide by lockdown) but I can't bear for them to be apart okay.


End file.
